


'my lord' is the standard response

by onlyeverthus



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 07:43:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18774283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyeverthus/pseuds/onlyeverthus
Summary: Tyrion and Sansa spend a quiet evening together.





	'my lord' is the standard response

"My lady," Tyrion says as he enters his chambers, not quite looking at Sansa as he unfastens his vest, but aware of her presence on the chaise by the window.

She doesn't respond, and Tyrion finally looks at her as he tosses his vest on a nearby chair. She's reclined against the back of the chaise, dressed in a silk robe with her long legs stretched out in front of her, red hair lying in a simple braid over her shoulder, and her gaze intent on the book in her hands.

Tyrion smiles. The extensive library in King's Landing is the only reason she ever agrees to come, she always tells him. To be sure, he's quite certain that at least a handful of volumes have made their way into the library at Winterfell. But over the years, Sansa has become more tolerable of the capital, and has visited him more and more.

The children stay behind in Winterfell, but their oldest child, a girl of 12 named Catelyn, will soon be brought to court. Sansa had been resistant at first, the memories of her own childhood still so fresh in her mind, even after so many years, but King's Landing is different now, and the prince is a far cry from Joffrey.

"Be that as it may, if Cat does not like the prince, she will not be forced to marry him," Sansa had told Tyrion fiercely when they'd discussed bringing their daughter to King's Landing. "If he so much as speaks one harsh word to her –"

Tyrion had placed his hands on her arms, and she'd calmed instantly, taking a deep breath as she met his gaze, though her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were wide and bright.

"Cat will not be forced into anything," he assured her. "She can marry whomever she likes. She is very excited to meet the prince, though."

"So was I," Sansa muttered, pressing her palm against one red cheek as she took another deep breath.

"Rhaegar is not Joffrey," Tyrion reminded her softly.

Sansa certainly couldn't deny that fact. From what any of them knew, Prince Rhaegar was much like his namesake, a kind, gentle young man, fair in both appearance and temperament. He had the silver hair and violet eyes of the Targaryens, while Catelyn had the Tully coloring of both her mother and her own namesake; Tyrion had thought before that they would make beautiful children, if they ever so wished, though he'd never said as much to Sansa.

As hand to the queen, Tyrion must spend most of the year in King's Landing, but Daenerys allows him three months to spend with his family in Winterfell, and he sends ravens to each of his children on their name day, if he's unable to be with them. Even if he can't spend as much time with them as he would like, he tries hard to be a good father, and he finds himself thinking often about how he's defied his own father. Tywin Lannister thought Tyrion brought shame upon the family, and was certain Jaime would be the one to continue the line, but after all this time, it's Tyrion, and with a Stark, no less. He and Sansa have had 6 children so far – Catelyn, Robb, Eddard, Margaery, Rickon, and little Arya, just two years old – and while Jaime and Brienne have a couple of children of their own, they've isolated themselves on Tarth, and have no intention of bringing their children to court, or playing in marriage politics. The Lannister name lives on through Tyrion's children, bolder and brighter than ever, and Tyrion feels a sort of fierce pride, both in himself, and in his children.

Sansa will be returning to Winterfell in a couple weeks' time, and they've both agreed that when she returns to the capital, she'll bring Catelyn with her, and Catelyn will remain in King's Landing with her father for several months. Tyrion knows it will be hard for Sansa to go back to Winterfell without her, but he's looking forward to having his daughter with him, letting her see what he does during his long months away, and also that there's more to the world beyond the snowy north.

For now, though, it's just him and Sansa. Well, him, Sansa, and that blasted book. She still hasn't even looked up at him, and he strides purposely over to the chaise. He climbs onto it, placing himself directly between Sansa and her book, and she stares at him, blue eyes wide, before she starts to laugh.

"'My lord,'" he says, raising his eyebrows at her, "is the standard response."

"Apologies, my lord," she replies, grinning as she marks her place and sets the book on the small table beside her.

"What are you so engrossed in, anyway?" he asks, angling his head to see the cover. "Battle history?"

"It's something new," Sansa replies. "Daenerys gave it to me to read before she authorizes an official publication. It talks about Westeros since Robert Baratheon's death. She said she figured I, along with a few others, will know better than she how accurate it is."

"That's true enough," Tyrion agrees, and looks back at Sansa. "However, the hour grows late, and your dear husband has returned from his official duties."

"Yes, he has," Sansa replies, smiling as she lifts one hand to comb her fingers through his thick curls. He leans forward to kiss her, his fingers tracing the edge of her robe, and wonders idly if she might return to Winterfell with their seventh child planted in her belly.

"Have you had supper?" he asks when the kiss breaks.

"No, I was waiting for you."

Tyrion stands at once to go tell the servants to have their supper brought up, and then returns to Sansa, joining her once more on the chaise.

"I do wish you would eat supper when I'm late like this," he says.

"It's no fun eating by myself, and I like hearing about your day."

"And I enjoy hearing about yours as well. Where are you in your reading?" he asks.

"The Battle of the Whispering Wood."

"That wasn't long after Robert's death."

"I was in the city most of the day, the book was waiting for me when I returned, with the note from Daenerys."

Sansa pauses, and Tyrion shifts to look at her face, studying her expression. She meets his gaze, and the corner of her mouth rises.

"It makes me miss Robb. And my mother."

Tyrion looks at her a moment longer, then gestures at the book. "I will read with you until our supper arrives."

Sansa smiles, and Tyrion kisses her once more before shifting to make himself comfortable between her and the raised side of the chaise as she reaches for the book. She scoots down a bit so she can rest her head against his, and so the book will be level for them both, and they slip into comfortable silence as they begin to read.


End file.
